


Beat it.

by BarPurple



Series: Writer's Block [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Inspired by Music, enchanted forest, mild violence, spinner rumple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Rumple has a run in with the village bullies





	

“Just like his father.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Bad blood will out.”

Rumplestiltskin had heard them all, people didn’t need to even speak the words he could see the shadow of Malcolm in their eyes when they spoke to him. He did his best to never show fear, always stood up as tall as he could and met their judging gaze with indifference. Most times that worked and he felt a glimmer of hope that people were finally seeing him as his own man. The feeling didn’t last, but he clung to it.

For some of the young men in the village words weren’t enough, he could normally sense the change in the air and slip away before the first punch was thrown, but not always. This was one of those times, the mocking jeers had shifted rapidly into shoves and slaps, he’d kept his feet and for the first time in his life he’d swung a punch.

Time slowed, his knuckles connected with a stubble-rough jaw and the bully dropped to the ground. He had a split second to boggle at the sight before a heavy blow hit him from behind. Instinct took over and he curled defensively as the kicks landed. He was good at surviving this; he’d had plenty of chances to practice. He rolled with the kicks and only half heard the fiery words telling him he wasn’t wanted here. In his mind he could already hear his Aunts telling him that he was playing with his life and he needed to be more cautious.

He limped home, bruised and battered a smile on his face at the sweet memory of landing that punch. Maybe the village was right and he was as worthless as his father, maybe they were wrong and he’d do great things, all that mattered today was he’d proved to himself that he could fight. He winced as he chuckled to himself, next time he’d have to remember to keep swinging.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Beat It by Michael Jackson.


End file.
